On A Day
by AleraeEirtoren
Summary: Lucy has come back to Kouta after all, although a little bruised and broken but still Lucy nonetheless. Can their budding love blossom? Rated for language and sexual content.
1. Temporary Insanity

On A Day…

By Alerae Eirtoren

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Elfen Lied. I just own my own personal love of it.

Summary: Lucy has come back to Kouta after all, although a little bruised and broken but still Lucy nonetheless.

Sure, he kissed her on the stairwell. Sure, they held each other tight before the final goodbye… but now that she has once again defied death and the inevitable is out of the way, can their love survive in the setting of normal life?

I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but basically it's a view into normal life after the series ends assuming that Lucy is the one behind the screen at the very end. I might do more chapters but I'm really not sure.

I know that her real name is later revealed to be Kaede, but I've never liked that name so Lucy will remain as Lucy. Yeah.

Bong.

The deep sound of the old grandfather clock rings first in his ears and then in his head. "Huh?" He turns, momentarily forgetting the guest behind the screen.

Bong.

"It's working…" And his heart is suddenly racing, and he gets that feeling in his stomach. It's that sort of foreboding feeling, that flutter he gets in his chest when something big is about to happen.

The shadow waiting behind the screen is oddly patient, though slightly slumped and is very female in figure. He remembers his manners despite the butterflies in his gut and hastens to the thin screen door, opening it and giving an apology for his halt.

Bong.

Pink hair is what fills his vision, and the shadow that had filled him with cold air now fills him with a stifling joy as it forms into the figure of his painfully missed rogue. Her eyes are tired, she is bleeding and she is bruised and has an open wound on her head where she should have a horn. He can see several entry points for bullets on her blood-soaked clothes, and as she falls softly into his embrace, he can barely hear her whisper:

"I worked hard on it."

She wakes up to the smells of cooking and clean linens. She is clean, and her clothes are comfortable and bloodless. She is warm, but relaxingly so, and as she lies enjoying this small and dark environment between sleep and wakefulness, she slowly comes to realize that it has been a while since she has had a notion to indulge in any given comfort.

She does not remember being washed or her clothes being changed or even being put in this bed, though she knows where she is and the time of day according to the sounds of clinking dishes and the scents of what she is sure is lunch. She does not expect the feeling of a warm hand on her cheek, however. But she is certain of its owner.

His thumb strokes her skin softly, the palm of his hand steady against her jaw. For the most part, she is awake. She is aware of him, and is conscious enough to hold back the tears that fill her closed eyes at the thought that he still loves her and wants to be with her despite all that she has done.

"I won't forgive you," She remembers him saying, "But if you were to hurt anyone again… I would surely regret it."

She had kissed him after that. He had kissed right back. This fool, this man, the only man she had ever loved or will love, the man who's family she had literally torn apart before his eyes and yet he loves her…

Love truly is blind. It is dangerous and its path runs side by side with one's own path to self-destruction, only it is the path that the sane as well as the insane willingly tread upon.

And this whole thing is absolutely insane to her, and as she continues to enjoy the feel of his hand and its soft caress, she continues in this mode of thinking: knowing she doesn't deserve him, knowing she is taking his sanity, if only figuratively, but she also knows that she has lost enough of her own sanity to take the blind risk of trying to be happy with him and to make him happy with her.

He whispers the name of her other half, that being the only name he truly has for her. She never told him her name when they were children, but then again she has long since discarded it… she had never liked that name to begin with. He calls her "Nyu", most likely preferring not to call for Lucy because all of the pain that name entails, and the birth name she never told him is no better off either. Nyu is the representation of her that brings him laughter and peace of mind and the bliss of ignorance, while Lucy is the side that brings the cold truth of his past and her actions in that past.

She wishes he would just forget both, and she could fall into some kind of dreamless oblivion and he would be happy with some woman he has not met yet and not remember her, but that one human part of her, the one with that painful thing they call a heart, refuses to let go. Perhaps that is why she is still alive to be thinking these things, the exact thoughts he had told her not to think.

He calls her again, but this time… "Lucy." And her tears are once again restrained as she slowly opens her eyes to meet the light of day and the blue of his. Her cheek is still engulfed in his hand. "Good afternoon." His words may be short, but the emotion behind them is tremendous.

It is then that she realizes the stiffness of the muscles in her jaw, and upon further exploration she discovers that her entire body suffers the same way. It hurts to speak, but she does not leave him waiting. His happiness comes before her physical well-being, in her book at least. "Good afternoon." Her many years of being a sociopath leave her awkward, even to the man she has opened her heart to. She has so much she wants to say, and yet she has a complete inability to say anything at all.

His hand leaves her cheek, though its warmth lingers for a moment or two, and comes behind her back as he helps her to sit up. She feels pain everywhere, but bites her lip before the whimper can escape. He notices. "Don't strain yourself," He says, his voice is like a caress against her ear, "You just need to sit up enough to have something to eat, that's all. Mayu saved some lunch for you before Nana could get her hands on it." And he laughs a little at that as he brings a bowl of soup under her nose and she realizes just how hungry she is.

She feels pathetic as he holds her up and feeds her as well, and the smile on his face is what makes her swallow her pride and continue with this ridiculous scene despite her steadfast need to be self-sufficient. He picks noodles out of the bowl with his chopsticks, blows on them, then deposits them in her awaiting mouth, then repeats as she swallows.

She just doesn't get it. She is supposed to be miserable and he is supposed to only see her as a bloodthirsty monster, but here he is feeding her weak and broken self, trying to once again make her healthy, totally careless or ignorant of the fact that she could kill him at any given moment. Though saying that she could is completely different from saying that she would, of course.

Before long she realizes that the bowl is empty and that the object of her affections is looking deeply into her eyes. She admits to herself with rue that the moment could even be romantic if her thoughts would not be so damnably clouded and she not so damnably, well… her.

"Lucy…" His voice calls her. Not Nyu, not ignorant bliss, but Lucy, cold and merciless truth. Open wounds and two shattered childhoods. A nameless little girl with a river of blood flowing around her hands. A girl later dubbed Lucy, and Lucy is the mask that girl hides behind, with Nyu to be a mask for Lucy. She can't think about it too much or her head might spin. "Lucy!" His voice becomes louder and she realizes that she has drifted too far back into her thoughts again.

Her eyes meet his, and in that blessed instant she is without thought. Insanity can be called thoughtlessness, and if love encompasses them both, then so be it. She is content with that if it means knowing no thoughts, or perhaps even good thoughts, with this man. "Kouta…" She whispers his name to him, her voice cracked from strain and misuse and perhaps a plethora of other things.

The empty bowl clatters to the floor, but he pays no attention to it. His hands once again make their way to the sides of her face, and she feels him pulling her toward him gently a moment before their lips touch. Her neck and back are wracked with pain, but the pleasure of his lips cause her to decide to ignore it, though were she in a different state of mind she would berate herself furiously for such a course of action. But, again, his happiness comes before her well-being, and that is that.

When they part, and she can see him breathing fast and her sensitive hearing picks up the sound of his heart, she knows that this is what he wants. Yuka is nothing to him compared to what he feels for her, and despite how selfish she feels by admitting that, she must also admit that it is nonetheless true. She can tell by the look in his eyes, the look that says that she is all he sees and desires to see.

His arms come about her and hold her tight, and once again she ignores the pain he unknowingly causes her with his affection, and she wonders what kind of karma or irony could possibly be the cause of all this. "I've missed you so much… Nyu… Lucy. Don't leave again, please… please. I- I lo-"

She achingly puts her hand over his mouth before he can say what they both know he was about to say. She would not be able to bear it, and he realizes this. "Please…" Is all she can say, "Not today or tomorrow, maybe one day… but not now… please…"

He nods in understanding and instead contents himself by holding her, and eventually the pain in her body fades as she grows used to this position, and both broken lovers grow quiet as they bask in their thoughts and shared body heat.

Perhaps this thoughtless love has some kind of sanity to it, if only in a somewhat perverse way. These are her thoughts as he gently lays her stiffening, sore body back down on her bed to get some more sleep. He lays down beside her, whispering sweet nothings, or perhaps that is simply only in her own imagination, as the tides of sleep slowly but surely come to sweep her off her conscious feet.

The dreamless oblivion she so desires come to her, but he still remembers her as he watches her sleep. Perhaps there is beauty in insanity, but who's watching for it, anyway?


	2. Smile for Sake

On A Day…

By Alerae Eirtoren

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Elfen Lied. I just own my own personal love of it.

Summary: Lucy has come back to Kouta after all, although a little bruised and broken but still Lucy nonetheless.

Sure, he kissed her on the stairwell. Sure, they held each other tight before the final goodbye… but now that she has once again defied death and the inevitable is out of the way, can their love survive in the setting of normal life?

... And here is chapter 2! I guess all those cups of tea are getting to me...

Also, yuri is talked about in this chapter, the whole typical NanaxMayu. I don't really like them because they're too young, but I'm a firm believer in that love doesn't depend on gender. It's only talked about, nothing really goes on for the reason stated earlier.

She's relaxed today.

She decides this while steam from her bath rises around her and she hears the soothing sound of rain pattering against the roof. The hot water softens and relaxes her usually tense muscles, fluidly caressing her glistening nude flesh, allowing her mind to wander from its usual hole of dark thoughts.

Today is a good day, she also concludes, as she was able to make it to the bath by herself today, though her faithful lover had been right behind her, ready to catch her should she fall. She wonders silently if perhaps he is waiting outside for her.

She wants to make herself useful around the house if she is to submit to Kouta's wish that she would stay with them. Nyu's memories tell her that her job is to clean the floors and windows and such, and it is that job she plans to keep up with. Her and her vectors can probably get the job done in half the time that Nyu could without them, and she is certainly no person to sit around.

She will please him in whatever way she can. She owes him that much.

A soft sigh escapes her lips as she slumps further into the water, stretching and opening her pale legs in a very unladylike fashion, but she could care less seeing that no one else is around. Her horns are growing back. She had sorely wished that they would stay broken, but no, they are her curse and to her curse she must be bound. He had liked her horns when they were children, even when all of those other horrible boys and girls had rejected and made fun of her because of them.

She tries not to let her thoughts go any deeper into the story than that, she doesn't want to worry Kouta any further than she already is. She closes her eyes and instead concentrates on the sound of the rain, the faint music coming from Nana's radio. The girl has developed an obsession with pop music, and Lucy often sees her with a pair of headphones on and dancing through the halls, right before an arm or leg flies and a frustrated cry is heard from the young diclonius.

The thought makes her smile slightly, and perhaps for the first time in her life she is content… perhaps even happy with where she is. It's a good feeling, and anyone inhabiting the house knows that for her good feelings are exactly what the doctor ordered.

With these thoughts in her mind, she washes her loosened body and rinses. Somewhat reluctantly, she gets out of the cooling water and wraps a robe about her person. Her ears are unnaturally sharp, and before she is about to open the door into the hall, the soft sounds of conversation reach her.

"But.. Kouta," The voice of Yuka flows into her unwilling ear, "She can't be ready…"

"I know she is! I know she's still weak, but I think this will be good for her. I've decided."

Lucy is silent. She doesn't want to eavesdrop, but… well. Despite her power and ability… she is still human on some fundamental level.

There is a short pause between them, and somewhere something in Lucy's gut feels cold. She never really did like Yuka to begin with. "Kouta… if I were to come back to you after such impossible odds, would you feel so strongly for me too?"

Silence. She knows him. He is silent not because he has a negative answer, but because he has no answer to give. Lucy and Yuka are two entirely different people, and his past with each of them is different. Somewhere she feels the fragments of her ego puff up at the thought that Kouta chose her and not Yuka, and somewhere else the thought makes her sick.

"Idiot!" She hears Yuka cry, and not shortly after her quick pace is heard going down the hall, away from Kouta and away from Lucy.

She hears his soft sigh as he approaches the door of the bathing room. She quickly jumps back from the door so he doesn't see her shadow cast upon it, her muscles aching in protest. He knocks on the side of the sliding paper panel. "Hey… Lucy? You done in there?"

He still has trouble calling her Lucy, he's slipped with calling her Nyu a few times already. Lately she has been thinking of simply changing her name to Nyu for his further comfort, only then she comes to realize that she is not Nyu. Nyu is happy and carefree and completely infantile. Lucy, her current person, definitely is not that. So Lucy is the only name that fits. "Yes." She answers him, genuinely curious as to what he and Yuka were discussing, though smart enough to act like she hadn't heard.

She takes a moment or two before opening the door and allowing her soul- or what is left of it, anyway- to soften upon seeing his eyes gazing right into hers. Only a fool would not be able to understand Yuka's jealousy, and Lucy even admits to herself that had the situation been reversed, she would probably have turned the color green were she to see the two of them together. And that thought immediately makes her feel selfish, because after all she has put him through she knows she doesn't deserve his love or even to be jealous of it, but again she reminds herself that her and Kouta have reconciled, and he has several times told her to forget any such dark thoughts.

Slowly, she slides into his embrace. There is no safer place than this. The sad little girl in her smiles when he holds her. This is the purity of insanity, the bliss. "Feel any better?" He says softly into her ear, and though it is seemingly out of her character, she blushes.

"Much." And it's the truth.

He leads her back to her room where he waits outside while she gets dressed, she not caring that her hair isn't dried. When she reappears in the doorway, dressed much in the same way she was when they had first kissed, he wonders if this is fate. Her eyes are no longer as dead as when this half of her has first made herself known to him, in fact, every day they are becoming more and more alive. Lucy will never again be Nyu, but rather he can see Nyu in there, reflected somewhere in the diclonius' eyes.

He has a stifling feeling somewhere in his chest, and he wonders if every young man about to ask a girl this type of question feels the same way. But he's got to have courage if he's going to see this through. "Hey, Lucy… I was wondering. I- I know that you haven't fully recovered yet but… would you maybe like to go somewhere tonight? The rain just stopped."

Her facial expression doesn't change very much at his question and its obvious intent. A slight raising of the eyebrows is all, perhaps in disbelief of what he is really asking. "You mean… a date?" Sometimes she forgets how young she and Kouta really are; she hadn't even thought of that aspect of a relationship.

"Y-yeah… I mean you don't have to if you don't want to! I just thought… I mean maybe it will be fun." Yes, she truly does forget. He sounds like a teenager, and the hilarity of this whole thing doesn't even escape her, it being so obvious.

Her laughter is held in strict silence, however, because laughing is very un-Lucy in nature and would most likely crush Kouta's spirit, something Lucy has no right to do whatsoever. His nervousness seems to rub off on her though, and she notices this right before she opens her mouth to speak, and when she finally does find words half a moment later, she realizes that she is no better off than he is. "Thank you, Kouta. I would love to." Even those words sound too out of character for her, and she wonders if perhaps someone has been drugging her food. She can't think straight.

He lights up immediately. "Great! A new restaurant opened up downtown and I want to take you to it. We'll leave in an hour, okay?"

"Okay." And silence once again rules between them, but the silence is not so uncomfortable. He looks deeply into her eyes in only the way that he can, and her knees turn to water as the unwanted guilt continues to stifle her heart and it fills with love for him anyway. She wants to be with him, she wants him, and so her quiet guilt is the price she must pay. And so be it.

She fears him as much as she loves him, despite her physical advantage. It was as if the first kiss between them on the stair had sucked all the courage out of her, and so he must be the one to initiate any affection between them. He pulls her into an embrace, and Lucy, perhaps the most vicious murderer known to humankind, becomes his puppet. She is his to hold fast and tight and cuddle with, and her lips are only his to kiss. It's sappy, and she normally hates sappy, but under these circumstances… well. She'll make an exception if it means he might hold her a bit longer.

He gently lifts her chin and kisses her, showing her his affection, the fact that he wants her. It's a beautiful thing, regardless of anything else she might think, regardless of the teeth that have eternally sunk into her heart, on some level their love is good. She is not a very intimate person, but Kouta brings out something in her, makes her want to deepen the kiss and caress the sides of his face and neck. Perhaps it is just that he makes her feel like a woman, as strange to her as that may sound. Maybe.

Mayu and Nana found out about their 'date'. Lucy isn't sure if someone had told them or if they had eavesdropped… she could have sworn she had heard giggling while she was with Kouta… but regardless Mayu had jumped right upon it, Nana right behind her. The younger diclonius has treated her much differently ever since that last night, almost with a newfound respect, though of course Lucy would never consider them to be friends. It's fine, though, and they live quietly alongside one another, both with their own special people to protect in this house.

As stated before, Lucy's ears are unnaturally sharp, and she was unfortunate to discover Nana's 'special person' late one evening while she had supposed all others were asleep. Her and Mayu had not been doing anything too… intimate upon her discovery of them, so she kept quiet and the two had never noticed her. The knowledge of their secret relationship is none of Lucy's business, so she keeps it to herself. And for the better, she supposes, because if the two were to be found out Yuka would most certainly no longer let them share the same room, and Lucy personally knows the pain of being separated from a loved one. She is only cruel to her enemies, (also known as anyone outside this house) and she would definitely not be so cruel as to rat them out, not even to Kouta. They did nothing not to deserve their love, not like Lucy, so she leaves it be.

The two, mostly Mayu anyway, decided to be the ones to pick out her clothes for the evening. When she protested saying that what she is wearing is good enough, they proclaimed it nonsense and then went sorting through Lucy's closet. She doesn't have much, and a few unsuccessful outfits later she is still entirely for her first suggestion of wearing her normal clothes. She likes those thigh-high striped stockings she wears anyway…

Her saving grace is Yuka who enters her room looking as if she had never spoken to Kouta. And Lucy thinks herself to be psychotic… she honestly does not think this woman to be right in the head, and that's saying something considering Lucy's own criminal record. "Alright you two, that's enough. You might make her not want to go at all…" Confirm that. A definite psycho… or in the least she can be called The Green Lady; she's up to something. "Lucy," And somewhere Lucy wonders if she can hear the sounds of a short circuit coming from Yuka, and she holds back a small gasp of laughter, "If you need something to wear, you can go through my clothes. I don't mind."

Thank you, O Benevolent One! "I'm fine." Lucy declines the offer quickly, fearing Yuka might pour itching powder in her clothes or something to that low degree. Not that Yuka has ever done something like that before, and Lucy usually eats whatever she cooks for dinner and nothing happens, but just because she hasn't done it before doesn't mean she could never start.

"But-" Yuka starts again.

"Hey Lucy! Ready to go?" Kouta's voice filters from the hall, and a moment later his head pops through the sliding door. Upon noticing where all the females of the house had gathered and the articles of clothing strewn about the floor, he smiles. "Let's not go crazy here, ne?" He says as he enters the room and takes Lucy's hand, leading her out the door. Lucy can almost feel Yuka's eyes on her back.

Since her freedom from that inhumane institute, Lucy has long since decided that twilight is her favorite time of day. It is the time of balance between the rulings of dark and light, when things start to wind down and the sky shows with beautiful colors.

It is in this type of environment that she and Kouta walk to this restaurant he so wants her to accompany him to. Neither of them drive, and the retreating clouds glowing pink in the setting sun was just too nice a view to pass up. They are side by side, no words being spoken, Lucy in particular finding them totally unnecessary. She is losing herself to her thoughts when Kouta silently reaches over and takes her left hand with his right, lacing their fingers together in their own small embrace. She isn't entirely shocked, and she doesn't dare let go, but she isn't entirely comfortable with the gesture in public, she never having been good at show of affection. But then again, she had never quite expected to live out her life like this. Not with him.

The sun is near completely gone when the two finally reach their destination. The restaurant doesn't look all that fancy, it's for casual dress, but it doesn't look all that cheap either. "Are you sure?" She asks him as they enter, and his reply is a smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand.

A kind waitress shows them to their seats and hands them each a menu, pointing out the night's special and all other things required of her to say before moving on to the next patron.

Lucy looks around, at the menu, at Kouta looking at the menu, and comes to the conclusion that she is totally, completely, screwed. She's never been to a restaurant before. Not only that, but… "Something wrong?" Kouta asks, noting her expression. Yes, screwed.

"Well, I…" She sighs, he'd have to find out at some point, "I've been on the run all my life, so I've never had much of an education… I can't read, Kouta. I only know a few simple words, that's it." They had never taught her anything at the institute except pain and humiliation.

His eyes widen a little as he learns this. He knows she isn't stupid or anything like that, quite the contrary, but he's surprised that he hadn't guessed that earlier. "Then allow me to help you." He says, acting as if her confession were nothing of worry, and really it isn't, considering she has no need to be a functioning member of society. He gets out of his chair and kneels beside her, pointing out what each item means, telling her to pick whatever she likes.

In the end, she just picks what he's having. Sure, it isn't very original, but she could care less. When the waitress comes back he orders a bottle of sake for them along with their meals, pouring glasses for each when it comes. "To a good future for us and our new family," He says as he raises his cup, and she feels a swelling sensation in her chest, "And to us, Lucy." His voice and eyes are sincere and soft, "I hope you meant what you said about wanting to stay by my side, because there is nothing I want more. Let's toast to a new beginning, ne? C'mon raise your cup too… good. To the start of a new story and a happy family, and to the start of seeing that smile on your face more often."

She quickly blushes upon realization that she is smiling at his words and instead gives him an annoyed look, the color in her cheeks refusing to leave. He laughs at this. "It's not funny!" And he laughs harder, and she is heavily reminded of their trip to the zoo. His laughter just continues and in his mirth he downs his glass to confirm the toast. It's infectious, she can feel the sides of her lips twitching, the bubbling feeling in her throat. "Stop it!" She can't fight it much longer, if he doesn't stop she's going to join in…

"… And here you are." The waitress mutters as she deposits their orders upon the table and Lucy nearly thanks whatever god is feeling sorry for her today out loud in relief. As Kouta busies himself eating, she then notices that her sake is still on the table, untouched. While he isn't looking, she picks it up, raises it a little, and downs it. It burns her throat a little, she was never much of a drinker, but it feels good and warm in her stomach.

Kouta refills their sake cups a little bit later on, saying nothing about how hers is empty, but that first round had already gotten to her head, and she quickly comes to realize that she cannot hold alcohol very well… and in this state of mind she stops caring. Kouta is all mirth and laughter as the wine flows and the food is good and the atmosphere around them is light and airy, and she has to admit to herself: she is having a good time. As the wine continues to make her let go of herself, she is smiling more and more at everything he says, at the softness of his eyes, at how he reaches across the table and takes her hand.

She doesn't finish her whole meal, and Kouta says that they always give you too much anyway. She feels bad regardless, because she knows what it's like to go without a meal, so she never likes to waste food. But she doesn't have time to brood over it, because Kouta is already leaving, he's waiting for her at the door, the half-empty bottle of sake in his hand. He had paid already.

It's getting late as they begin their walk home. She wishes she could see stars, but the city lights block them out. "Lucy?" Kouta has walked a few feet away from her, making her realize she had stopped. He looks up at the sky, then back at her as she approaches him. He takes her hands. "I have a surprise for you," A cab then seems to come out of nowhere and stops right up on the curb, "Come on!" He says as he pulls her into the back seat right next to him.

"But where are we going?" Lucy has never really been one to like surprises.

He puts his arm around her shoulders as the cab speeds off and out of the lights and noise of the city. Lucy sighs and rests her head on his shoulder, he isn't going to answer. She closes her eyes, hoping the wine will run its course soon, knowing she's going to have an awful headache tomorrow morning.

It's maybe half an hour before the cab finally stops and Kouta ushers her out. All Lucy sees in front of her are steps leading into a huge building that seems to stretch into the sky for a mile, though she's sure it isn't that high. He takes her hand, and up the steps and into the building he leads her to an elevator, waving to the man at the front desk. He presses the button for the top floor, and the elevator begins its long ascent. He puts his arms around her and in a sudden she is his. It's the wine, she's sure, else wise she would never have let him do this in an elevator, of all places. She lays her head on his chest and he kisses the top of it, taking a deep breath at the scent of her hair.

And all too soon, the door opens, and Lucy's eyes meet a truly spectacular sight. He leads her onto a balcony, and there she sees the lights of the city and also the stars. They stand at the railing, gazing out into the glowing metropolis, his jacket covering her shoulders and his arms encircling her waist. "Beautiful, isn't it?" He whispers into her ear, and it is. It's sappy again, and it's romantic, it's perfect. She turns and looks at him, and their eyes meet. His look says forget your pain, this is a new beginning, this is what love is.

She has to, she can't help it, she smiles, she blushes. Her arms circle around him, and she stands on her toes and kisses him, like that night on the stairwell. Screw it. She loves him, she loves him more than she loves anyone else, and she's going to show it to him. There's nothing wrong with being in love, she finally concludes, as their passion flows with wings on high under the stars and into the night.

Author's Note:

Aaaaand that makes the end of Chapter 2! Wow, I worked my butt off the whole day on this. I never realized how hard it is to portray Lucy's character, especially with some of the situations I put her in. I try really hard to keep them in character cuz if there's one thing I hate it's OOCness.


	3. All That Matters

On A Day…

By Alerae Eirtoren

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Elfen Lied. I just own my own personal love of it.

Summary: Lucy has come back to Kouta after all, although a little bruised and broken but still Lucy nonetheless.

Sure, he kissed her on the stairwell. Sure, they held each other tight before the final goodbye… but now that she has once again defied death and the inevitable is out of the way, can their love survive in the setting of normal life?

She doesn't think she's ready for this. Not at all, not one bit.

She and Kouta had had to sneak into the inn, as the time isn't favorable for the other members of the house to be awake or awakened. Even Yuka hadn't stayed up to wait for them, which had truly surprised Lucy upon noticing the fact.

His arms are warm and gentle around her, and she almost feels like she's swooning. There is no pleasure like this, the pleasure and pain that come from the anticipation of pleasure. The neediness that he is bringing out in her. It's the sake, it has to be, because there would otherwise be absolutely no way she would let him do the things he's doing right now so early in their formal relationship. She thinks she's going crazy... or for lack of better words crazier. She does not stop him though, she acts upon her former resolve to make him happy no matter the cost to her or her body, her acceptance in the obervatory of her own desire to be his lover.

They are still both fully clothed, though she is unsure how long that's going to last. His room is dark, he hadn't turned the lights on when they first entered. He had just grabbed her, though not violently, of course, and kissed her deeply. She's pressed against the wall, him against her, his hands running up and down her body, keeping clear of more private areas but again she's certain that won't last long. She wonders if he's ever done this before, because she certainly hasn't... not consentually, anyway, but she doesn't allow her thoughts to venture any further into that damned institute, not now. His hands rub on her outer thighs, coming up and holding somewhat hard on her behind, bringing her up and pressing her center against his, and (involuntarily, of course) she lets a gasp when she feels his stiffness against her.

He lifts her and brings her over to his bed, and she wonders if he is nervous at all.

He kisses her with passion as he gently cradles her head on his pillow. He isn't sure if he should be doing this because of her injuries, but she isn't objecting to him so he assumes she wants to do this too. She's so responsive, so warm, he can feel her curves pressed close against him as he kisses her. Her legs are shut tight, slightly crossed even, underneath him, and this tells him that despite her responses that she's afraid. He pulls away and looks into her eyes, almost as if to tell her that he would never hurt her, and when he sees her expression, her passionate blush, and is somehow reminded of his more... secret mangas, he resolves that with him, when they are like this, she will only know pleasure. He likes that look on her face.

"Don't let me do anything that will make you uncomfortable, okay?" His voice is soft to her. He places his lips to her neck and allows his hands to once again roam her body when she nods. Gently, he cups her left breast, and is rewarded with a small whimper. He takes both and massages them through her clothes, his lips trailing downward from her neck. She is writhing under him, her hands in his hair, legs tightly closed but no longer crossed. Her breathy whispers are hardly understandable, sexy in only a way that someone like Lucy can be, that depsite her deeds and namesake she is, yes, a woman. His woman, or at least he hopes so, as he isn't sure as to how many Lucy has had before him, which agitates him slightly but he knows it's out of his hands. She's in his hands now, her flesh hot under her thin clothing, his lips claiming hers, and he is hot and heavily aroused and bent on pleasing her before himself. Any girl from those mangas would be applauding him, he thinks as he undoes the bow of the ribbon around Lucy's neck and kisses where it had been, smiling and holding back the mirth this thought gives him.

The room is too hot, she's too hot, she feels like she's painlessly burning, if that is even possible. His touches are maddening, and she feels helpless under him, helpless as a squirming infant. She might end up with one if this continues, and by God that's the last thing she needs. Her body is screaming at her, keeping her tethered to earthly desires, causing the muscles in her legs to slacken, causing them to lax. She wants to yell at him to just do it, just fucking get it over with, when another part has control and allows him to continue with this inevitable foreplay. It isn't that she isn't enjoying it, quite the contrary, but the helplessness... She needs to turn this around some. She needs to have some control.

He reaches for the zipper of her black jumper, pulling it down at a pace somewhere between moderate and slow. She stops him from pulling it off past her hips, wondering if perhaps the sake had run its course, and definitely not wanting him to see the state of her undergarments... hell, she doesn't even want to know. She feels her power, her vectors, useful to her even in her alchohol-induced wasn't able to take control the last time she was underneath a man like this, but now she certainly will, even though the man on top of her is Kouta.

He is confused when she stops him and finds himself being pushed into a kneeling position in her lap, when he sees the oddest gleam in her eyes. His confusion rises as Lucy suddenly takes the reigns of the situation, reaching up to kiss him, her hands caressing his chest, her... other hands reaching out to touch him. He's afraid suddenly as he feels their ghostly caress on his body, their lack of human warmth, their murderous potential. They lift him, lift him, up off his bed, lowering him to where Lucy had just been, his partner then settling herself beside him, her right arm supporting her as she arches over him, her face mere inches from his.

She feels herself smiling, Kouta's fear of her vectors' newfound gentleness perversely exciting her. "I can't just lay there and let you have your way with me," she says, her voice sounding dangerously sweet. He nods, he understands, but looking down she notices that his fear has removed his arousal, that she will have to start over again. She's quite nervous, she has no clue where to start, and her ego won't let her ask him for help after her last statement. He helps her anyway, though, lifting his head so as to kiss her, placing his hands on either side of her head. The kiss deepens, she feels his tongue gain entrance into her mouth, his hands rubbing her shoulders, her breasts, her belly, and finally he places them on her hips, his fingertips brushing on her behind. Her vectors take on a mind of their own, brushing not just on his body but also on her own, making something of a foursome out of the situation, there being four pairs of hands.

She feels his hands pulling her to him from their place on her hips, and before she realizes it, she's straddling him, legs wide open. She takes in a breath, just as helpless in this position as she had been in the one under him. His hands move to her thigh-high clad legs, lightly rubbing them, moving from her outer thigh to her inner, causing her to gasp into their kiss. Before she knows it his hands have made their way back to her jumper, still bunched around her hips, and this time he gets it down around her ankles before she can fight him, revealing a pair of thin black panties, already quite wet. Immediately he moves to her stockings, removing them before she can protest, breaking their kiss and maneuvering under her to reach them. He runs his hands up her smooth, hairless legs, firmly planting them on her backside, and pushed down co that her center rests against his erection, impatient and stiff once again. An incredible fire runs through her lower stomach and down her legs from the contact, and she lets out a whimper.

Her vectors come out to play again, aching for control of the situation. They start with his clothes, removing, or rather, tearing them off. His bare chest is marvelous to her, young and fit and hairless. He's shaking, that scared him, his clothes suddenly just tearing apart. She kisses him, running her hands, only her hands, about his torso. "Don't fear them," she whipsers into his ear, enjoying her dominace, "not like this." She kisses his neck, and he shudders, and he goes about his established business of running his hands about her body. She had left his pants: those were her business to remove with her own physical hands, to share their warmth. She starts with them, pulling them down, and he kicks them off as he pulls her shirt over her head, removing her bra in short order. He cups her breasts as she sits on top of him, her sex overtop of his, and to her the pressure feels wonderful. Her hands come to rest on top of his, encouraging him to touch her now.

It's incredible, the feelings she has when he touches her. Incredible, how she gasps and whimpers as he rubs her breasts, her thighs, moving inward... moving to where she has also been defiled, aside from her mind and heart. His fingers lightly brush her through the wet fabric of her undergarment, and she gives him a whimper of approval, unable to look him in the eye.

"Does that feel good?" He asks in a gentle manner, gazing at her though she will not look at him.

She's blushing, she knows it. "Y-yes."

With his other hand, he takes her chin and makes her look at him, "Do you want me to do it again?"

And she can only look at him, unable to speak, embarrassed by her own feelings.

Smiling, he takes his hand off her chin and rests it in front of her face, wiggling his fingers. "Don't fear them," he quotes her, "not like this."

And the blush on her face is adorable. She smiles, truly, knowingly smiles for him, and that is all he needs. The fingers that had been resting underneath her wet center then gently brush again against her. Her breathing quickens and she gasps a little. He reaches up to the line of her panties, hooks his fingers around them and slowly pulls down. He sits up, taking hold of her and turning her around so that her back is pressing against his front, and as slowly he reaches down for her, he places gentle kisses upon her neck.

She is warm and wet, responsive and ready when he sofly begins to stroke her. He thanks all those great mangakas for knowing how to do this as he comes to a spot particular to her. She whimpers his name, over and over, as he strokes and pushes inside her. His fingers come out again and push back in, continuing in this pattern while picking up speed, gasps and moans in the form of his name spilling from her mouth like a mantra. She feels it building, she knows what it feels like, for even she was not below self-exploration in her younger years.

But timid exploration is nothing compared to this. Kouta has her completely, literally in his hands, the pressure is building inside her, and it's hot, so hot, she feels like she's going to explode. She starts to rock her hips in time with him, feeling it, the burning, the awesome need for release, that she should die should she not have it. He takes her breast into his other hand, squeezing hard, and she calls his name, calls to him like a blind woman in the dark, like a thirsty woman in the desert. She calls his name as it crashes down and her muscles constrict and bind around his God-given fingers and she is throbbing and soaking and yet still he does not cease upon her, not stopping until she falls backward into him, his hand resting against her, applying firm pressure. Somewhere she wonders where on Earth he learned such a magical touch.

The night isn't over yet, she knows this, she says as much to him as she turns around and claims his lips. His arms wrap about her, and she plants a trail of kisses down his neck. She takes off his boxers, and is greeted by a very ready, very impatient erection. She settles herself above him, slowly lowering...

"Wait!" He suddenly calls, startling Lucy, she looks at him and he's blushing as he reaches over and opens a drawer, removing a small package, "Might be smart if we use this, ne?" He says somewhat embarrasedly. He opens the package to reveal Lucy's personal savior for the night, other than... well, she'll never look at his hands the same way again. He covers himself with it, and now that they are child-proof, his hands are on her hips, positioning her above him. She feels the head touch her, and Kouta places a gentle kiss on her lips. She comes down on him slowly, taking him in until he is sheathed in her to the hilt, and around him she is hot and tight. When she meets eyes with him, she notices that he is looking at her strangely, and it takes a moment before she realizes why. "You're not a...?"

"No." She looks away, not wanting to remember what caused the loss of her last bit of purity. "Please, not now, not now. Please"

He holds her tight, "It's okay. I'm not either, it really is okay. We're together now, and that's all that matters right?"

She kisses him again, still unable to fathom how he could really feel this way about her, "Right."

She begins to rock atop of him, gyrating and moving her hips, full and complete with her lover inside her. He helps her, his hands on her hips, bringing her up and down on him, impaling her with himself over and over, and she calling his name once again. They move with vigor, rocking so hard that he falls forward on top of her, going in and out, faster and faster, she pushing herself against him, that awesome pressure building inside of her again. There is no greater pleasure than this, the anticipation may be achingly wonderful, but the working and the obtainment are better. She comes first, crying out his name like a prayer, her inner muscles clenching around him, sending him into the 3-second-heaven that so many nations have lived and died for.

He does not pull himself out of her immediately, instead choosing to rest upon her, wrapping his arms about her slender frame. "You were beautiful," he whispers into her ear, "and that's all that matters." And she buries her face into the crook of his neck, loving his compassion, his companionship, loving him.

The past has its name for a reason. Though it is hard to forget, it is still, as they say, the past. As far as she is concerned, this was her first time, his too. No matter what has happened before, what is important is that they are together now. And that's all that matters.


End file.
